


drunken kisses and awkward mornings

by saysay586



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Carry On Countdown (Simon Snow), Carry On Countdown 2018, Day 14: A Cliche, Drunken Kissing, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Penny knows, Truce, my more cliche title was going to be "a night to never forget"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-14 17:50:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,095
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16917489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saysay586/pseuds/saysay586
Summary: Baz and Simon hate each other. But when they both go a party, declare a truce, and get absurdly drunk, wild things are bound to happen.An alternative 7th year. There is SO much fluff in this.





	drunken kisses and awkward mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Well here is my submission for day 14 of the COC 2018: a cliche. Besides the whole premise being a cliche (getting drunk and finally getting together), I also added some Carry On specific cliches (like sentences we find in every AU fic).
> 
> Also like to note that I started this fic on NYE last year and only finished it now because I consistently suffer from writer's block and major procrastination issues. But, it is finally done! And hopefully people realise it is not just a COC fic!

**SIMON POV:**

“Alright, I’ve had enough, Simon!”

Penny, sitting across the bed from me, is giving me a look. The look. Shit.

“Sorry, Pen…” I mumble. 

She sighs and rubs her face with her hands. I can tell she’s getting a little fed up. 

“Listen, Si, I love you and I know this has been hard for you, but by the time you are done talking, it is going to be next year.”

I look up at her sheepishly. She simply sighs again, and says “I’m going to get changed.”

Penny gets up and walks into my washroom. With the closing of the door, the room is silent for the first time in, oh, about two hours, if my clock is right. 

I only now notice how long I’ve been talking about the party tonight. No wonder Penny is exasperated. Words are not usually my forte, but when I get going on something, I can talk for hours. Usually, my typical topics of ranting are limited to Watford’s cherry scones and Baz’s plotting. However, my break up with Agatha last week has thrown my world into disarray. It came as such a shock to me that I have only been able to tell Penny the basics of what happened. Only after a week have I figured out what I’m feeling and what I want. Kinda. I’m still not really sure.

I mean, I definitely miss Agatha. We were good together. Once the war was over, once everything had settled in the world, we were going to live the picturesque life. That was a great plan. 

That plan did not involve her breaking up with me and then ignoring me when I tried to talk to her. So, when Gareth told me about the party he was setting up, I figured that that would be the perfect time to actually talk to her, given I now knew what to say (not really). Maybe a little liquid courage (alcohol, not the potion) would help the words flow better. Who knows?

Penny emerges from the washroom, makeup and hair finally done. The top of her bright, curly hair has been pulled back into a bun and she is wearing a dark blue dress that flares out at the hips. She looks absolutely fantastic. I tell her such.

“I know,” she replies. “Now, I don’t know if this plan of yours will work or whether it even should, but we are going to this party and we are having fun.”

After I get changed and Penny does some final touches, we head out to the party at one of the buildings. As we walk up the path to the front door, there is absolutely no noise. For a second, I wonder if we are in the wrong place. I look at Penny, unsure, but she pulls me forward anyway.

“C’mon; they set **quiet as a mouse** on the entire room to keep the party under the radar,” Penny says, while giving me a look like I should have known that spell. I mean, technically she is right. It is an elementary level spell and a common one at that. But still.

As soon as we pass through the doors, it is clear that this is the place. The main floor has been transformed into a perfectly dimly-lit room, fit with blaring stereos right by the doors and crowded with most of the 7th and 8th years. A strong beat carries across the room and the walls look purple and blue with all of the lights changed with magick.

Penny and I make our way towards the back of the room, where there is a kitchenette with some food and drinks. Penny had somehow managed to convince Premal to get us some beer and a bottle of coconut rum. I have no idea how long that debate between the two of them lasted, but I am grateful Penny won. It will be nice to let loose and enjoy a night.

I crack open one of the beers that Penny brought and take a swig. Penny has already rummaged through the kitchenette and found (or magicked up) some ginger ale and orange juice to mix with the coconut rum. I eye her as she is making her concoction and raise my eyebrows. 

“Don’t like beer?” I ask, waving my bottle.

“If I am going to get drunk, it is going to be on something that doesn’t taste like cow piss,” Penny says, scrunching up her nose. 

“Fair enough.” 

I take a couple more sips from my beer, but I’m not going too fast. I have no idea how alcohol will affect my magick, and I don’t plan on finding out. As long as I don’t drink too much and Baz doesn’t show up, I should be good. I’m sure that Baz is too cool for all of us to show up to a party like this. He’s probably out in the Catacombs, thinking about how he’s better than all of us. Or maybe he is out there plotting to light Mummers house on fire, taking all of us out with one swipe. Or maybe he _is _here and-__

____

____

“Stop it,” Penny snaps, interrupting my thoughts. “I know you are thinking about Baz.”

“But what if he’s here _plotting? _”__

____

____

“Simon, a) like you say, he’s always plotting and b) take a look around. He is not here. You are being ridiculous.”

Penny takes a sip of her drink and I sigh. As per usual, Penny is probably right. I look around anyways, to make sure he isn’t here. As I glance around the room, I don’t see Baz. I do, however, see some long, straight, blonde hair in a corner. _Agatha. ___

____

____

I shake all the nerves off and run a hand through my hair. I mumble an excuse to Penny, who rolls her eyes in return, and I make my way across the room. Her hair always in my sight, I weave my way through the crowd towards her. As I get closer and more of her comes into eyesight, I realise she is not alone. She is with some guy from 7th year that I don’t know the name of. And they are very close. So close, in fact, that their lips are touching.

I come to a halt two meters from them and small noise comes involuntarily out of my mouth. Agatha eyes flutter open, her and the boy separate abruptly, and her head turns towards mine. Realizing it is me who caught her, her face turns bright red. Then, it melts into an expression of pity and apology. This is not what I was expecting. 

She opens her mouth to say something, but I turn on my heels and briskly walk away, running straight into a few people on my way back to the kitchenette. I don’t know what to do now. As per usual, my plan went to shit and I cannot think straight. 

Penny is still at the counter when I return, with sympathy in her eyes. I must really look like a numpty. 

“I’m sorry, Si. I saw what happened. At least you know that she’s really moved on. Maybe you can now get some closure.”

“Yes, I mean- I know, it’s just- you know- I thought, maybe, there was a small chance that…” I let my speech die off.

Penny gives me an awkward pat on the shoulder and I down the rest of my beer. May as well. 

The room suddenly increases in volume a bit. Someone popular must have entered into the party. I whip my head around. Who else could it be but Baz? That git is somehow so popular.

It turns out my thinking is wrong. Again.

Micah emerges from a slightly parted crowd and ends up standing right in front of a very shocked Penny.

“Oh my god!” Penny exclaims, wrapping her arms around him. “What are you doing here?” 

They seperate from their hug and Micah turns to face us both. 

“I felt bad that we couldn’t see each other last summer, so I decided to surprise you since I’m on vacation right now” he replies. “I see the surprise worked.”

Micah sticks his hand out towards mine. “Hey Simon. Good to see you again.”

I grasp his hand firmly. “Good to see you too.”

“Si,” Penny says, wrapping her arm around Micah’s waist. “I hate to do this to you, but you’ll be fine here on your own, yeah? I want to catch up with Micah back in my room, while Trixie’s still at the party.”

I see the pleading in Penny’s eyes and, once again, concede. “Yeah. It’s not like he flies in everyday from America, Pen. I’ll be fine.”

“Thanks, you’re the best!” Penny squeals, giving me a hug. “Plus, you can keep the beer. But I’m taking this.” Penny snatches up the bottle of coconut rum and walks away with Micah on her arm.

Guess I’ll have to go find someone else to talk to. Gareth should be around here somewhere.

I grab another beer from the pack and turn around to go find him. I walk around the party aimlessly, avoiding the corner where Agatha is. I finally spot Gareth near where some games are set up. I head towards him, when he suddenly pukes all over the ground. I stop dead in my tracks, as Rhys brings him to the bathroom, and someone cleans up the puke.

Great. With Agatha making out with some random person, me having no one to talk to, and the room smelling disgusting, my perfectly planned night has officially gone to shit. At least it couldn’t get any worse.

But as I gaze up towards the beer pong table, I realize just how wrong I am.

**BAZ POV:**

********

********

One night. 

All I wanted was one night away from Snow and his stupidity and his perfect golden hair and the war growing between our sides. One night where I wouldn’t be Tyrannus Basilton Grimm-Pitch, and instead I could be Baz, 8th year student out to have a fun night. No war, no sides, and no unrequited love; just a normal teenage party. 

Tonight was supposed to be fun, to be my escape. Dev, Niall, and I grabbed our drinks: theirs stolen from their parents, mine given to me by Fiona. They go for classic beer, but I’m more of a vodka guy myself. It clears my thoughts better and gets me hammered way faster (not that I get easily drunk; it’s a vampire thing, I think).

We went to the only party around. I discovered that beer pong is not my game, much to Niall’s chagrin, and we lose to Dev and some other year 8. I don’t mind losing for once: more excuse for some drinks. 

During my third round (I had one cup left, while the other side had 4), my already poor concentration was broken by a horrid retching sound. I look towards the source and see Gareth being taken away, seeming extremely green. My face curls in disgust, but that isn’t what captures my attention and ruins my night. 

Simon Snow is standing in the middle of the room, staring off towards Gareth, alone. I’m surprised Penny isn’t at his side. As per usually, he is looking annoyingly gorgeous. His hair seems partially combed, as if someone gave up after skimming through the top, but it works completely in his favour. He is wearing black jeans and a pale blue shirt, that brings out his plain, stunning blue eyes. 

Suddenly, those eyes flicker upwards and meet mine. It takes a couple of seconds, but I see the moment on his face when he realizes I am at the party. 

I think about sneering, but I can’t find motivation to do so. Instead, I take a shot straight out of my bottle of vodka and raise one eyebrow. Snow frowns in response. 

Fine. Let him think I’m challenging him, trying to prove that I am better. 

I walk towards Snow, who frowns deeper with every coming step, but doesn’t walk away. 

“So, Chosen One,” I say, coming to a stop. “Taking a break from saving the world tonight, are we?”

Simon doesn’t reply, his brows just furrow in a mix of anger and slight confusion. It has an infuriatingly adorable effect on him.

In typical Snow fashion, he doesn’t reply. We stand there in awkward silence for a couple of seconds. It’s weird. I can’t remember the last time I’ve been this close to him outside of our rooms without us arguing. Snow seems like he’s trying to think of something to say, but the words are not quite there yet.

Finally, he opens his mouth to say something and is about to speak when Agatha appears in between us, facing Simon. 

“Simon, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean for you to see that. It’s not what you think.”

“What isn’t what I think? You were _snogging _that guy, Agatha. Th-that was pretty clear.”__

____

____

Agatha reaches for Simon’s hand, but he pulls back. Right. I heard rumours they broke up. I guess it’s official. My stomach feels fluttery for a second, but I push that feeling down. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you, Simon. But, I wanted to have a night of fun. I haven’t had that in a while.”

Simon face turns from anger into sadness as he realizes the implications of her words. My cold heart breaks slightly to see him like that. And maybe it’s the alcohol in my system or maybe it’s the despondentness on his face, but I decide it’s time to intervene in this conversation.

“Let me guess,” I say, taking a step forward to join in. Agatha jumps slightly at the sound of my voice and turns so she is facing both Simon and I. She has the same look on her face as she always does recently around me. Simon only seems miserable.

“You two just broke up,” I continue, a bite growing in my voice. “Snow looks even more hopelessly lost than usual, so I’m going to say you broke up with him. But, Snow, you also seem miserable, so I’m going to guess that Agatha’s already moved on. And if I had to guess with who, I would say probably Wyatt in year 7.”

Agatha blushes and I know I’m right. I smirk. Wyatt has that natural bad boy appearance, with hair only slightly shorter than mine, a sleeve of tattoos on one arm, and pierced ears. I’m not surprised at all that he is Agatha’s rebound. He’s the stereotypical boyfriend you have to piss off your parents, and he could not be more opposite than Simon. 

“I’m sure your parents will be very cross with your little rebellion here,” I say coolly, with a sharp edge to my words. Agatha is so trapped in her own melodrama she created, she doesn’t see how she’s hurting Simon, and that pisses me off. 

Agatha blushes even harder, but her face turns cold. She turns back towards Simon. Seeing that he won’t say anything, she pats his arm and walks away, back towards the corner where Wyatt is still waiting. Simon’s eyes follow her as she walks away, then they flicker back to me.

He still looks lost, but at least slightly less miserable. We return to silence, but this time, it isn’t as awkward. The ice between us has thawed a little.

“Here,” I finally say, thrusting my bottle of vodka towards him. “You need this. Your miserableness right now is unbearable.”

Simon doesn’t grab it; his eyes simply flicker back and forth between me and the bottle. I can see the gears turning in his head. Probably contemplating if I poisoned the bottle, which is idiotic of him since I already drank from it. He must have come to the same conclusion as I did because just when I think he may turn away in disgust or anger, he grabs the bottle and takes 3 giant gulps straight from it.

His nose crinkles up, makes a face between disgust and pain, and starts coughing hard.

“Merlin and fucking Morgana. That really, really burns” he says, bending over and clutching his throat.

His reaction is too funny and a smile threatens to rise to my face. I try to frown to counteract it, but a corner of my mouth still manages to slightly rise.

“Well, you’re not supposed to drink it like that, you numpty” I reply.

“You drank it like that! How was I supposed to know?”

“Crowley, Snow, are you daft? I did one little sip worth of a shot. You drank, like, a cup straight!”

We look at each other and that bubble holding in my smile finally bursts. I smile at him and he breaks into (hoarse) laughter. I can feel the alcohol tingling in my body, letting me loosen up enough that I chuckle with him. In turn, that makes us both laugh harder until tears are coming to our eyes. 

Finally, we sober up a little (only our laughter does; we, on the other hand, are still tipsy as fuck) and Simon looks at me softer than he ever has before.

“Thanks, Baz. I’m- um- it’s been a long week.”

“I’m not a monster, Snow. I know what Agatha meant to you.”

“Yeah, but still, you normally are- I mean- I thought you were going to gloat or something.”

I decide to pull a Simon and shrug in response. By now, all the drinks I took during beer pong are starting to kick in, and I can feel my defensive walls slowly lowering. My normal steel filter I keep in place at all times to hold up appearances is disappearing. 

I take the bottle back and take a sip. Normally, my brain would be freaking out over the fact that Snow and I shared the same drink. But I can’t find the will to be overanalytic right now. 

“One night.” This catches Snow’s attention and his brow furrows in confusion. 

“One night, no sides or hatred or plotting or whatever,” I clarify. “Just one night of being roommates who are going to get piss drunk.”

Once again, Snow stays silent, his face warry. He can never tell if I am planning something or not. That’s probably the smartest thing about him. 

He seems to decide that I am not a threat tonight, or maybe the alcohol decided for him, and gives a shrug.

I sigh and jerk my head back towards the pool table. 

“C’mon, Snow. A game of beer pong couldn’t hurt you.”

**SIMON POV: ******

********

********

“YEAH! WOO!”

Cheers erupt all around me as the ball enters right into the last cup. My last cup. 

I grab the cup and quickly down the last of the beer. Dev and Niall swept us again. They are really good at beer pong. Or maybe my partner is really bad. Probably the latter.

“Baz, you suck at beer pong. You missed every single one of your shots.”

Baz shrugs, a slight smile on his face. “You weren’t that much better, Snow.”

That makes me laugh. I landed the only 3 shots that went in. Baz softly chuckles too, and we stumble away from the table. We collapse on a nearby sofa, still giggling away.

“Well, well, well. It looks like someone has been having fun without me.”

I turn around and an amused Penny is standing right behind me. 

“Pen, you missed a shit ton. Agatha tried to talk to me but I was all ‘nah’ and Baz was soooo salty and then I had some of Baz’s vodka and then he lost beer pong for us!”

Penny looks confused. She furrows her brows and glances over at Baz, who is still kinda smiling. Her eyes go back and forth between the two of us, seeming to finally notice that we are sitting together.

“So, you two… hung out? And you didn’t kill each other?”

“Well…” Baz interjects. “I wouldn’t say I didn’t think of it. But Snow was in too pitiful a state to do any such thing.”

I roll my eyes and shrug at Penny. 2 hours ago, if you told me that Baz and I would be laughing together, absolutely plastered, or even that Baz was actually smiling for once, I would have thought you were mad. But, I guess he’s not that bad when alcohol has gotten rid of his… evilness. Everything’s so much easier with alcohol.

“Everything’s much easier with alcohol, Pen” I say matter of factly. I try to get up, but I get very dizzy all at once and collapse back down onto the couch. Baz smirks at my lack of grace.

“Sure, Simon. Well, I came to get food for Micah and I, but I think he can wait a couple of minutes. You two are piss drunk and need to get back to your room. I don’t think you could even find your way back there in this state.”

I start to protest, but even drunk me knows the look on Penny’s face that means it’s worthless to fight her on this. Baz doesn’t seem to know that look though.

“S’okay Bunce, I can get him there,” Baz slurs. “I’m fine.” 

He gets up and tries to pull me up with him. I shake my head (very slowly though).

Penny scoffs and scrutinizes Baz. “No way in hell are you going to be any more successful in this, Basil.”

Baz seems affronted at Penny doubting him. Or because she used his name. Maybe both. I don’t know, everything is becoming much harder to do.

Penny grabs my arm and pulls me up off the couch, slowly. This time, I don’t get dizzy, but my balance definitely feels more off than usual. I try to balance myself on Penny, but she is so much shorter than me, so it is quite hard. I reach out to my other side and grab Baz. This is much more stable and I lean on him for support.

Baz looks surprised to have me right next to him, but doesn’t push me off. I turn my eyes towards Penny, who seems to have some understanding on her face. I don’t know why. 

“C’mon you two. Let’s get you to bed.”

**BAZ POV: ******

********

********

Simon’s leaning on me. Simon’s touching me.

My thoughts keep repeating that over and over as we stumble up the stairs. 

He has his arm looped around my shoulders, and mine is holding onto his waist. We stagger back and forth in sync, our bodies lining up against each other from shoulder to hip. I look down at Snow every once and while, still shocked that he would ever let me be this close to him. Touching Simon is something that I’ve always wanted, but always limited myself from letting happen or believing would ever happen. Yet, tonight, here we are, not fighting for once and closer, both relationship-wise and physically, than we have ever been.

Penny keeps looking over at the two of us with a small smile on her face and slightly shaking her head. She must be grateful that Simon isn’t buggering her about me tonight. More likely, she is thinking of her Micah and pretending in her mind like Snow and I aren’t here.

My head feels as light as a feather from the booze, yet I can’t help periodically glancing down at Snow. Sometimes, he’s also looking back up at me, his eyes crinkling with laughter, causing my insides to melt. Crowley, I better remember every moment of this night. 

After much stumbling and fits of laughter, we finally make it up to our room. For some reason, the door won’t open for us. Maybe alcohol makes our magick go wonky. I go to pull out my wand, but Simon reaches out and grabs my wrist, holding my arm in place. 

My whole body freezes on his contact. No, not freezes, as his touch isn’t cold. It is burning and his hand makes my whole body catch on fire. Almost like how the alcohol felt going down my throat hours ago, but without the burn, only the warmth and the tingle. I can feel my cheeks warming (thank Crowley there is not enough blood in me to actually blush), but I don’t take my eyes off of our hands. Somehow this is more intimate than before. Even though the whole sides of our bodies were touching before, this little motion feels more deliberate. Less like two drunk friends; more personal and deep.

“S’okay Baz” Simon slurs. “I got this.” 

Too soon, Simon lets go of my wrist and quickly cuts his finger to open the door. Penny holds open the door for us to go by.

“Well, as much fun as this has been,” Penny says pointedly, rolling her eyes. “I have a date to get back to.”

“Thanks Pen. You are the bestest friend ever.” Simon tries to drape himself over Penelope, but she pushes him off.

“Yeah, yeah Simon. Stop being a sappy drunk. See you in the morning. Don’t forget to have ibuprofen and a dustbin nearby. Night, Basil.”

I give a slight nod to Penelope, and she leaves, softly closing the door behind her. Suddenly, it is only Snow and I alone in the room, and it feels deadly silent. 

I go to face Snow, but the room blurs with dizziness as I turn too quickly. I stagger slightly and Simon frowns at me.

“S’okay, Baz?”

“Yes, I just need to lie down.”

I collapse onto my bed and shut my eyes. Between Simon’s touches and the copious amount of vodka, my head is spinning faster than a carousel. I can hear him sit down on his bed with a creak, and let loose a very loud sigh.

“Something to say, Snow?”

I crack an eye open at him, and find that his head is in his hands.

“-wht thwomy fookds andmwe-”

“Snow, your hands are in the way of your words”

Simon lifts his head out his hands and faces straight at me.

“We’re fucked, aren’t we? Truly buggered.”

“Well, yeah, we will probably have massive hangovers tomorrow.” At my response, he shakes his head.

“No, like, you and me are fucked forever.”

I sit up. “What d’you mean?”

He sighs again. “I mean, this was fun and all. I can see what could have been, but there’s the Humdrum and the Mage and the war, and all that shit. All I can see is everything ending with us burning.”

That hits me hard. It’s not like I don’t know what our future holds. I know I am going to die by Snow’s hand, but it is not often that I see that destiny pierce Snow’s exterior. Not that we ever talk, but our end is something that I always thought wasn’t on his mind. It’s a topic too closely intertwined with my feelings towards Simon, and too much for right now. Especially in my state.

“Snow, I thought I said none of this war stuff tonight” I say, but I say it softly and for once I let my emotions be clear on my face, letting him know I understand. He relaxes at the words -or maybe at my look- and leans back on his arms.

“Alright.”

We sit in silence again. It’s only slightly awkward, on the verge of comfortable. We stay like that for a while. Occasionally, I look over at him and every time I see his bright blue eyes on mine. I can’t help but look away after a second. It becomes too much.

“Baz?”

“Yeah, Snow?”

He doesn’t answer; instead, he gets up and stumbles over to my bed. As he makes his way over, he trips over his own feet, sending him flying in my direction. His arms crash into the bedframe on either side of me, and his face lands mere inches from mine. 

We are almost nose to nose. We are so close I can’t breathe. Even that motion would break the moment. His eyes are still on mine, never wavering. Mine do, often flickering down to his lips and straight back up again. 

“...Simon?” I whisper, with the intention of pulling away, but somehow my body doesn’t listen. 

He doesn’t respond, only keeps staring. The heat continues to grow and with every coming second, I feel the need to lean forward and kiss him. Crowley, I just want to kiss him.

But, then _he _kisses _me _.____

_____ _

_____ _

**SIMON POV ******

********

********

I felt like I was coming down from my buzz, starting to feel more grounded, after my conversation with Baz. I’ve never felt so at ease with him, and felt the need to thank him, maybe? Or to somehow have him understand that I don’t want to fight with him, not ever. Or maybe I have have some other motivation that I don’t understand, but no matter what my intention for walking towards Baz was, my tripping was not intentional.

I suddenly found Baz below me, looking vulnerable, a trait I thought he would never associate with. He seemed hesitant, too. Then, he called me _Simon _. And I don’t know what came over me, but all of my intentions and motivations accumulated in one action. A kiss to tell Baz that I am here, I understand, and thank you.__

____

____

Now my buzz is at a peak again, even higher than before. I wouldn’t even call it a buzz, more of a fire burning inside me; like when I go off but sweeter. Baz’s lips are softer than I expected, and what’s even more surprising is that he doesn’t pull away. But, he doesn’t exactly reciprocate either.

I pull back.

**BAZ POV ******

********

********

He pulls back.

I push forward.

We meet again, this time with a more powerful and dominant kiss. Simon kisses me like a fire needing oxygen and I love it. Our tongues meet and clash and soothe, much like we have. His hands roam in my hair to mess it up; they meander down my back; they wander to my stomach to rub (which I can’t help but moan at).

My hands never leave his hair, constantly curling and weaving their way deeper, as if they are trying to tangle themselves up in a web so tight that they can never leave. But my lips move across Simon, sloppily attacking each and every single one of his moles. Giving each one attention and love before moving onto the next. 

Eventually, we sink down together until I am lying on the bed with Simon hovering over me. His hands are on either side my body, and his knees are tucked against my sides. He keeps his lips just out of my reach so I have to tilt my head up to meet him. But I don’t mind. I’ll never mind. 

**SIMON POV: ******

********

********

He is meeting my lips, no matter how far I go. It is incredible. To see Baz be soft and giving… it affects me.

It makes my brain go BAZ BAZ BAZ LIPS BAZ. It makes my body turn hot.

I pull back from Baz, who makes a confused face. I quickly pull off my shirt, not hesitating. I pull at the bottom of Baz’s shirt.

“Can I- is this… okay?” 

He nods. I pull his shirt up and over his head. I lean down to kiss him lightly, suddenly tired from all my moving. I lie down next to him and we snog softly for a while. The energy dissipating; the passion still withstanding. 

I eventually feel my eyelids closing without trying and I struggle to stay awake. I once again pull back from Baz.

“Tired, Snow?” He says, softly though, a whisper of a question.

“Yeah.”

His hands stroke the side of my face. He opens his mouth but hesitates.

“Do you… want to stay here?”

Do I? 

Well, I don’t want to move.

“Yeah.”

 

**BAZ POV: ******

********

********

I wake up with a tingling right hand from numbness, surprisingly warm feet, and, most prominently, a pounding headache. I haven’t had that much to drink in a long while and my body can tell. 

But the warm feet and tingling hand aren’t normal hangover symptoms. Confused, I look towards my hand and realize there is a body in the bed next to me, lying right on my hand. Not any body. Simon.

Last night’s events come rushing back to me and that’s when it dawns on me:

_I kissed Simon Snow. ___

____

____

If he wasn’t lying in my bed right beside me, I would have just assumed that those memories were simply an alcohol-fueled hallucination, nothing more than a drunken daydream. But Simon is next to me, his body warm and comfortable against mine. 

My arm is tucked underneath his back and my head is leaning against his shoulder, just under his chin. Our legs are all tangled together under the sheets and his body is radiating so much heat that I don’t feel cold for once. I slowly and subtly tilt my head up at Simon’s face. He is still asleep and his hair is tousled from sleep (or maybe from me last night).

I consider moving, knowing what the consequences of staying put are. When he wakes up, he’ll probably want nothing to do with me. We will go back to hating each other and I’ll end up dying by his hand at the end of this bloody war. 

But for now, I don’t want to move. I want this moment to last forever, and even though that will not happen, I’ll settle for letting it last as long as possible. 

I close my eyes again and fall into a daze. Not asleep, but not quite awake either. 

Eventually, I feel stirring next to me, slight movements that give away that Simon is awake. 

I tense up. The moment of truth is coming and as much as I would like Simon to want this, he probably won’t. Still, because I can’t handle this, can’t control myself, I make my eyes open and dare a quick glance to his face.

Simon’s eyes squint open and his hand rubs the sleep out of his eyes. Midway through, his hand freezes, as if he only then realizes that there is someone next to him. He cocks his head downwards and our eyes make contact. His piercing blue eyes are staring right into mine and a look of mild surprise is on his face. 

The silence is deadly between us, and yet I must break it. I cannot stand it any longer.

I open my mouth to stay something, but it is too late. Simon jerks upwards and away from me. He whips the covers off the bed and takes off with a start, locking himself in the bathroom

Even though I knew he would still hate, even though I knew nothing would change, I am still crestfallen. Why do I always cave into my feelings when I know they are going to end poorly? Why did I let myself have that night of bliss when I knew that losing it was going to be infinitely worse than never having experienced it at all? And his reaction says all I needed to know about how much Snow will regret last night.

But then I hear retching sounds from the toilet and calm slightly. He did drink a load of alcohol last night (probably too much), and apparently the Chosen One does not have a strong stomach. Luckily vampires do. 

I get up and my eyesight turns black for a few seconds. Once my head clears and I turn back to normal, I grab the advil next to the bed. Thank Crowley for once that Bunce is constantly mothering Snow.

The sounds have finally subsided from the bathroom, and I feel bad that he is that sick. I sigh and walk towards the bathroom door and knock.

“Snow?”

**Simon POV: ******

********

********

Once I’ve finally stopped puking my guts out, I sit with my head leaning against the cool back of the toilet. I don’t let any thoughts enter my brain, especially not with my head in this much pain. Merlin, I have never felt like this much shit after drinking before. 

There’s a knock at the door, then I hear Baz’s voice.

“Snow? You dead in there? I’d hate to have to explain why your corpse was found with its head in the loo to the Mage”.

I groan. Leave it to Baz to somehow make a bad situation worse.

“I’ll be fine. I think everything has left my system now.” 

I slowly lift myself off the ground and blunder over to open the door. Baz is standing on the other side, more pale than normal and a hand on his head, but looks considerably better than how I feel.

“Are you not ‘dying’ too?”

He lifts his eyebrow and replies: “Pitches don’t get sick”.

I roll my eyes. Baz’s hand reaches out towards me with a bottle of ibuprofen in hand. I mumble a thanks and go to the sink to get some water to help swallow the pills. I also splash water onto my face, clearing away the haze that is still left in me.

Crowley. What a night. 

I’d never had thought that I’d wake in Baz’s bed with my legs wrapped around his, but here we are. I mean, I’d like to say I had never thought of Baz in _that _way, but … I think that would be a lie, wouldn’t it? All I really know is last night happened and, Crowley, I think I liked it. No, I know liked it. A lot.__

____

____

I sneak a glimpse of Baz through the mirror and see that he is leaning against the doorframe, eyes closed and hand still on his head. 

The bastard still looks good even in his present state.

I take a deep breath and turn around to face him. May as well get this over with now. 

I clear my throat and say “So, about last night…”

Baz cracks open his eyes and looks at me warily. If I didn’t know better, I would say he was blushing, but we all know that vampires can’t blush. He motions with his free hand to continue on. 

“Well, you see, um, the thing is that we, um -well maybe just I…”

“Spit it out, Snow,” Baz interjects. But I cannot seem to finish my thought. I let the silence hang in the air, too delicate and awkward to break. Instead, I settle for staring at Baz, hoping that maybe my eyes can communicate what my mouth cannot. Baz has always told me that I suck at lying because you can always see the truth written on my face. I hope that he is right. 

At the silence, or maybe at my expression, Baz’s whole body shifts. He tenses and his shoulders square up, like he is preparing for battle.

“Since you’ve seem to have thrown up your brain as well this morning, let me do the talking,” said Baz, coldly. “We both were very drunk last night and made decisions we both regret. Let us just pretend it never happened, for both our sakes, and go back to hating each other. Sound good, Snow? Or do you not have enough brain let to process that either?”

I glower at him, an instant reaction, but I know what he is doing. If this really was just a simple mistake to him, if this really meant nothing to him, if he really was this nonchalant, then he wouldn’t be this frozen and defensive. His words are as cold and piercing as ever, but his voice doesn’t match. He sounds like he is desperately holding up a shield to a blade I am wielding. Only I’m not holding a blade. 

I am holding out my hand.

“...And what if I didn’t regret last night?” I ask hesitantly, hoping my perception is right.

“Snow, it is too early in the morning for your games and lies,” Baz hissed. 

“Right, as if you’re aren’t the one who is always plotting,” I retort. “Besides, I don’t lie. Only the truth.”

I take a step towards Baz. He doesn’t step back.

“Snow, I’m serious-”

“You called me Simon last night.”

I look at his lips as he licks them slightly. His body is frozen, and I’m not sure how this will end.

But, then Baz quickly unthaws, and he pounces on me, his lips landing on mine.

I immediately kiss him back, with both of my hands cupping his face. Yes. This does feel as nice as it did last night. Nicer, even, as I am not completely sloshed and can feel everything.

Too soon, Baz pulls back abruptly.

“Shit, sorry,” I exclaim, before Baz can say anything. “My breath must be disgusting!”

Baz smirks and rolls his eyes. “Yes, it is, but I don’t mind.”

“Then why did you pull back?” I ask confusedly.

“Our ‘one night of freedom’ is over. We can’t just ignore the war and my family and the Mage just because of… _this _.”__

____

____

Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Yeah, I know Baz. But I don’t care about any of that. All I care about is, well, you.”

Crowley, that was cheesy. But, it still seems to soothe some of Baz’s worries. He looks away from me, like he was trying to hide a non-existent blush. 

With my usual abruptness, I quickly grab his hand. That gets his attention back.

**BAZ POV:**

He likes me. He's kissed me more than once and even though it was cheesy, he told me he cared for me. Never in a million years did I ever think those words would come from Simon's mouth, yet here we are, with his hand in mine.

“I’m willing to try to make _this _work,” he says. “Whatever _this _is.”____

_____ _

_____ _

“Me too, Simon," I reply. Inside I am unsure of this future, but this could work. Maybe we could even avoid death this way.

He grin at me, pleased with himself. “Good. Now let’s go get breakfast. I’m starving.”

“When are you not hungry?” I roll my eyes, but also smile back at him. I feel like I’m on cloud nine. I have never felt better.

We leave our room hand and hand. Unsure of the world and our futures, but sure of one thing. Sure of _this _. Of us.__

____

____

Crowley, I am living a charmed life.

**Author's Note:**

> One last cliche: "And they lived happily ever after".
> 
> Thanks for reading! Feel free to leave any comments; I love reading & replying to them!


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